Day 39: Sun Room [Fourth Shift]

[winged_moon]

Yue was all too pleased to leave the cafeteria by the time lunch was over, even if he still wasn't satisfied that Fai was properly taking care of himself. It was clear that Touya hadn't accepted the answers he'd been given and intended to find out just what the guardian wasn't telling him, and being watched so closely was beginning to get uncomfortable.

It was clear that the truth would have to come out at some point, especially if they were going to be spending any amount of time together. Avoiding him was entirely out of the question, but at the same time Yue stubbornly refused to consider the idea of just outright telling him about what had happened in the last week. It was a dilemma indeed, and only served to make him even more irritable than ever.

How could he admit any of it? That he was weak and crippled, betrayed and altered by his creator? That he'd almost broken the promise he'd given in exchange for Touya's power? The latter he couldn't help but be reminded of every time he saw this Touya, who had only just gone through it, and would remember it even more clearly.

Fortunately Yukito was staying silent for the moment, although he could feel his other self's disappointment at being unable to speak to Touya so far, and it didn't make him feel any better.

In the midst of all this Yue was rather dismayed to realize that the nurse wanted to lead him to the music room, of all places: that was the room where he'd met the Sakura-who-wasn't-his-Sakura the week before, and needed neither the reminder nor the inevitable noise in that room. He abruptly halted in his tracks and refused to continue on. The nurse seemed initially disappointed, but finally agreed to let him stay in the Sun Room instead; the guardian found a corner in which to stand, arms folded across his chest and lost in his own brooding thoughts.

[for Sokka]

Comments

[toobothersome.livejournal.com]

As long as he wasn't trying to give any motivational speeches, Fox qualified as acceptable company. Shikamaru had the sense that if he asked the man to leave him alone, the request would be obeyed without question or argument, which meant that there wasn't any reason to do so. He didn't mind company, as long as it wasn't obtrusive. With a soft exhale, he let himself fall back into a position where he could more easily watch the dimming sky. It was the same everywhere...Konoha, Suna, over borders he'd briefly crossed while working to organize the chuunin exams. The clouds themselves changed, listlessly drifting and merging until uneven wind tugged them apart, but the sky itself was a constant. Even when storms or darkness obscured it, in time it returned, unchanged.

Age and experience had tempered the fiercest of Shikamaru's cloud envy--as much as he disliked work, he disliked seeing harm befall his teammates and village even more, and a life with no responsibility could easily become a life of bothersome regret. Still, he'd liked knowing that the sky was always there, dependable in a way that very few things in a shinobi's life managed to be.

This wasn't the sky he was used to.

After a few seconds of silent contemplation and a few more seconds clearing that silent contemplation from his mind, he finally answered Fox's question. "There's a bunch," he said, voice tired and mildly bored, neither pleased nor deeply dismayed. As others had pointed out, this wasn't the kind of place you'd wish on your friends, but then, Shikamaru's friends weren't the kind who needed to be protected. They were all skilled ninja, used to confronting danger on a daily basis, and he was confident that as long as they stuck together, they could take care of each other and eventually return to Konoha. Their escape plans left something to be desired, he thought with a smirk and a quiet snort, but then, as troublesome as it was, he couldn't blame them. Most of them knew as much about strategy as he knew about high-level chakra manipulation or healing. Shinobi were meant to operate in small groups. Working with a well-matched team drastically increased the chances that they could accomplish what they needed to.

But what about Jiraiya? Could he go back, even if he wanted to? The thought barely registered before Shikamaru swept it away from his consciousness.

"They're all decent ninja, though," he continued. It didn't mean he had any less responsibility towards them, but fulfilling that responsibility would be a hell of a lot easier than protecting civilians or children.